


what's in a name?

by mikripetra



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Character Study, Etymology, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, Light Angst, Names, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Precious Aang (Avatar), Self-Esteem Issues, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikripetra/pseuds/mikripetra
Summary: Zuko hadn’t always hated his name.Everyone else he knew had names with clear-cut, ancestral meanings. Ozai meant “to carry proudly.” Everyone knew that. Zuko had known that for as long as he could remember.A soft touch to the middle of his spine as he sat, enraptured, in their private box at the theatre. Zuko realized he had let his shoulders droop forward, the touch reminding him to snap his back upright. He glanced around, hoping no one had noticed his faux pas. His mother’s hand discreetly retracted back into her billowing sleeve as she kept one eye on his father.He never blamed her for reminding him how to behave. Zuko knew it was to protect him, to mold him into a man even his father couldn’t disapprove of. Even then, he had been too full of shame to instinctively square his shoulders the way his father always did.Zuko thinks about the meanings of people's names, reflects on his life, and gets some love from the Gaang.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 176





	what's in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> I started investigating the meanings of ATLA characters' names on a whim, and this happened.

Zuko hadn’t always hated his name.

Everyone else he knew had names with clear-cut, ancestral meanings. Ozai meant “to carry proudly.” Everyone knew that. Zuko had known that for as long as he could remember.

A soft touch to the middle of his spine as he sat, enraptured, in their private box at the theatre. Zuko realized he had let his shoulders droop forward, the touch reminding him to snap his back upright. He glanced around, hoping no one had noticed his faux pas. His mother’s hand discreetly retracted back into her billowing sleeve as she kept one eye on his father.

He never blamed her for reminding him how to behave. Zuko knew it was to protect him, to mold him into a man even his father couldn’t disapprove of. Even then, he had been too full of shame to instinctively square his shoulders the way his father always did.

Even Ursa’s name was one that fit her well. “Such a beauty.” Even as she grew older, the maids would whisper it as they passed by her in the palace halls. She wasn’t around long enough for them to truly see her age, anyway. Zuko knew his mother was like a butterfly behind glass; beautiful, breathtaking, even, but only because of how she was trapped in a single moment. Would the maids still gawk at her beauty if she had stayed around?

Like their parents, Azula’s name was a birthright. Ozai had never hidden that she had been his favorite child since the moment she was born. Even when she was small, Zuko could see the resemblance to their grandfather. He knew there was something wrong with Azula the moment he saw her. She wasn’t always evil. But there was always something about her. Somewhere around the eyes. There was never any joy there; just searing cold, calculating cruelty. “Azula” might as well have meant “destined for the throne.”

Lu-Ten was always going to leave. The last time Zuko ever saw him, he was astride a horse, galloping away down the road to war. That was his birthright, just like Azula’s was to cause neverending pain. (Zuko always knew he wouldn’t be able to keep a friend for long.)

Mai had never tried to hide anything. Zuko knew that everyone would roll their eyes at her behavior, loudly remarking that she had no emotions. Were they even talking about the same person? Mai was darkness incarnate. But that didn't frighten him in the slightest; everything that had ever hurt Zuko was bright.

Mai was kind and fair, while being ruthless and brutal to all who opposed her. Mai blended into the background whenever it suited her purposes. She hid her weapons in the folds of her clothes. She was the opposite of what people looked for in a threat, and that was what made her the strongest of them all. For all her moods and all the dirty looks she’d get from asserting herself in public, she was safe. Soft. Zuko could stay in the shade with her forever, and he wouldn’t miss the sunlight for a moment.

Zuko found a way, later on, to combine Mai’s darkness, Azula’s power, and his mother’s love. The Blue Spirit was a menace, but he never used firebending to get his way. Behind his mother’s old theatre mask, robbing merchants and losing the Dai Li on his trail in the middle of the night, Zuko found peace.

No one ever used Uncle’s given name. "Oni-san," his mother would call him. Brother. Everyone else would use his titles. General. Prince. Dragon. Zuko would hear court members address his Uncle ( _his Uncle,_ the one who laughed with his whole belly, who cheated horribly at Pai Sho, who could spend hours talking about how to make the perfect cup of tea) as Fire-breather. Zuko would always wrinkle his nose in distaste whenever he heard people speak this way. His Uncle was simply Uncle.

"Rojin," Zuko would sometimes call Uncle, making all others around him blanch at the blatant disrespect. But his Uncle would simply smile and chuckle again, accepting the remark about his age with the grace of someone who had no doubt of their self-worth.

Zuko’s mother had always told him his name meant “loved one.” He had believed it, foolishly, for years. Azula would tease him as a child, taunting him in a sing-song voice about his inevitable failure. He knew she was wrong; he knew his name didn’t mean "failure." Surely even Ozai wouldn’t be so cruel. He’d believed his mother’s words all through his banishment, even, until he’d seen his own name on a wanted poster. It sounded the same, alright, but the meaning of the characters hit him like a slap in the face. Even worse than failure. "Ancestor robber."

No matter which way he went, it was true. By spending three foolish years of his life hunting the Avatar, by betraying his Uncle in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se, he was spitting in Avatar Roku’s face. By leaving the palace, by attacking his own _father_ to devote himself to training Aang, he was throwing Sozin’s legacy away for good.

"Prince Zuko _,"_ Uncle had always made a point of calling him. Even in the deepest depths of his banishment, when there wasn’t a sliver of hope on the horizon, he would be "Prince." When they were starving on the streets of the Earth Kingdom, when commoners and Fire Nation lords alike would snarl "Scarface" at him under their breath, Uncle would call him "Purinsu." The respect would choke him up if he let himself think about it for too long. His Uncle, one of the kindest and most revered souls, took time to make sure Zuko knew he was respected.

After the war, Zuko found himself surrounded by names he loved. Aang’s “peaceful soaring” led him gently out of his fits of anger, helped him to calm when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, electricity on his tongue and his eye screaming under phantom fire. Sokka’s “inquire” was a hand on his shoulder in meetings, pointing out tactical errors and standing up to bloodthirsty generals without a twinge of fear. Toph’s “growing flower” reminded him that progress had never been a straight line. Although his arm was starting to permanently ache from her affectionate punches, Toph showed him that moving forward in fits and starts was infinitely superior to never moving forward at all. She gave him hope for the future. Likewise, Katara showed him that just like a droplet of water, slamming your fist against a stone wall will create a dent, if you just keep at it for long enough. 

-

“Hey, you know what?” Aang calls out, one sticky, summer afternoon.

Zuko hums in question, most of his mind still buried in the facts and figures that crossed his desk this week.

“Your name is pretty awesome, Zuko,” Aang comments offhand. Zuko freezes, but Aang doesn't notice. He's only half paying attention to Zuko as he plays with his pet lemur.

“I’ve never heard anything like it before," Aang continues blithely. "It’s really unique, you know? Suits you.”

Zuko will deny it to his dying day, but he blushes bright scarlet, all the way down to his toes.

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind, the Gaang sticks around while Zuko rules the Fire Nation, helping him out and making him realize he's not a bad person at all. Please leave feedback, I love answering questions and you'll literally make my day.


End file.
